


To Me, Fifty Years From Now

by queensguardian



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:44:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queensguardian/pseuds/queensguardian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a stupid, ridiculously sappy New Year's oneshot with Jeanmarco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Me, Fifty Years From Now

**Author's Note:**

> I am trash.  
> edit: Oh my god you guys, there is now a podfic for this fic, by AwkwardTheAwesome! You guys can listen to it here: [Podfic](http://www.mediafire.com/listen/d669uo3x5xgxsdt/To_Me,_Fifty_Years_From_Now_by_queensguardian.mp3)  
> Thank you so much!

_Five_

_Four_

_THREE_

_TWO_

_ONE!_

The moment ‘Auld Lang Syne’ starts playing, Marco makes a quick getaway. His friends might have convinced him to come to Sasha and Connie’s New Year’s party, but they sure as hell couldn’t convince him to stand around awkwardly and alone while they kissed their various significant others.

He weaves through the couples, trying to ignore the way his heart aches at everyone’s happiness—after all, he should be happy because they are happy. That’s how it usually works with him…he just can’t bring himself to share in their joy this time. So he rushes out of the crowded house and goes to sit on the pier that juts out over the lake.

He had hoped to avoid any more signs of the New Year, but unfortunately for him, there are fireworks going off across the lake, and the old Scottish hymn is loud enough that he can still hear it.

What bothers him the most about all of this is that the fight was all his fault. He shouldn’t have told Jean the way he did. He should have waited longer; waited for a better opportunity... maybe if he had he wouldn’t be sitting by himself outside a New Years party.

_Well. Now you don’t get any more opportunities. You really blew it this time._

He downs the rest of his champagne, and tilts his head up to look at the stars. He had hoped that he would be sharing this moment with Jean.

_This was supposed to be our year._

He hears the skitter of a few stones over the beach by the dock and groans.

“Please, just leave me _alone._ It’s really nice of you to have invited me to the party and all, but I really don’t want to be in there with everyone right now.”

“Oh. Should I just leave, then?”

He spins around to see none other than the subject of his thoughts and runaway emotions.

“Jean! Oh! I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else!”

“Yeah…I got that.” To Marco’s shock, Jean looks completely abashed, and he kicks at the stones by the dock sheepishly.

“…Well. I mean, you’re here now. No sense in leaving, I guess.” Marco shuts up before he can embarrass himself any further, but his cheeks still burn as Jean comes to stand over the chilly lake with him.

They stand in silence for a few moments. Marco knows that Jean has something to say, and he’s prepared to wait to let him say it, even if he’s only waiting to hear Jean say goodbye forever.

Finally, Jean seems to find his inner strength, and he clears his throat. “Look, Marco. About earlier today…”

Marco steels himself, and sets his champagne glass down on a table. Better to be ready for anything than caught by surprise.

“Look, I said some things earlier that I really didn’t mean. You just…took me by surprise is all. And I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon, and…” He sucks in a breath, making his cheeks puff out, and the sight makes Marco feel all warm inside until his brain reminds him that Jean is probably about to say something that will hurt him.

Suddenly the thought becomes absolutely unbearable.

“Jean!” He practically shouts through his embarrassment, but plows on desperately. “I…I know that you don’t feel the same way. I get that. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot today too, and I think that it was really terrible of me to put you in that position. I mean, I don’t have any right to force you into a corner. But I just had to say it. But please, _please,_ whatever you do, don’t stop being my friend over this. I don’t think I could stand it.”

There. Now, if Jean does decide to leave him forever, at least Marco can say he tried to make him stay.

Jean stares at him in the dark, as ‘Auld Lang Syne’ transitions to ‘What a Wonderful World’ in the distance.

“Is that really what you think I came here tonight to say?”

These are not the first words that Marco expected to come out of Jean’s mouth, and he licks his lips nervously, a small flare of hope sparking in his chest for the first time.

“Well…isn’t it? Why else would you come out here?”

“I thought it would be obvious. God, Marco, for someone so smart and observant you can be pretty thick sometimes.”

Marco doesn’t respond to that; he just smiles weakly. He doesn’t really know how to respond to a joke at this point in the conversation.

“Marco. You didn’t let me finish. I came here tonight because I thought about it all afternoon, and I realized that what you said made a lot of sense. And then I thought back over our friendship. All the things that we’ve done together that I can’t see myself doing with anyone else. All the times I made you smile that I’ll remember when I’m old. All the ways I try to keep you smiling, when I don’t give a flying fuck about anyone else’s smile. And the more I thought, the more it made sense. The more _we_ just made sense. And when I tried to picture myself in ten years, twenty, _fifty_ , I realized that I can’t picture my life without you. Not only that, but I can’t picture myself with anyone else. And the thought of you being with someone else… _kissing_ someone else…It made me sick.

“Here’s the thing, Marco. You’re amazing. I look at you, and I see all the good things left in the world, and I just…I just…God!” He stops for a moment, and barks out a rough laugh.

Marco’s heart feels ready to explode, and he wants to shout from the rooftops and run into the house and tell everyone what happened, but most of all he wants to wipe Jean’s helpless, shattered nervous look off his face.

So he does what only seems natural.

He steps forward until the toes of his shoes meet Jean’s, and he drapes his arms over Jean’s shoulders.

“Why, Jean Kirschtein. Are you trying to say you love me?” His voice is quiet, but Jean hears him, and his face turns so delightfully red that Marco lets out a happy giggle.

“Maybe I am!” Jean’s eyes are wide with joy and wonder, and he lets his hands come up to wrap around Marco’s waist, pulling him even closer.

“Well, thank God for that. I was starting to worry it was just me.”

Marco closes the distance between them, and meets Jean’s lips in a soft kiss. An especially loud firework in the distance makes them pull apart, just enough to breathe, and Marco presses his forehead to Jean’s.

“I do love you, Marco Bodt.”

“Happy New Year, Jean Kirschetin.”


End file.
